Malo
by MeinBritishBroski
Summary: Spamano, yaoi - rated M for a reason. Inspired heavily by Malo - Bebe and a few other songs. May be continued later.
1. Prologue

**Warning;** This is rated M for a reason. This is the prologue for an mpreg fic, I'm not sure if it will be continued. It depends.  
>Sex, abuse, overall angst, OOC, dark!Spain.<br>**Suggested listening;** Malo - Bebe

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><p>Fear prickled in Romano's stomach like small shards of ice, freezing and then melting when strong arms were wrapped around him in a stiff embrace. It was a foreign thing-being hugged like this; no warmth or compassion, just roughness and strength, everything about the gesture said "<em>You're mine whether you like this or not<em>."

A cold wave washed over his lithe body, making him tense and then tremble. One of Antonio's hands had slipped beneath the hem of his pants and into his underwear, touching unexposed skin. He bit his tongue, knowing that if he protested against this, he might as well do it right.

'Antonio, _por favor_... no, _no quiero-'_

'I didn't ask you what you wanted, did I, Romano?'

'_Por favor_, Antonio, _por-'_

'Enough.'

An ominous feeling settled on Romano's shoulders as his clothes were slowly shed on the floor along with Antonio's-tanned skin slowly being exposed and studied and scrutinized by horrible, darkened eyes. Warm tears pooled at the edges of his eyes and searing hot anger flared in his chest when Antonio placed seemingly loving kisses on his neck. He didn't mean those- they were fake.

Antonio forced him down on the bed, melding their mouths together and trying to work his tongue inside Romano's mouth. Romano blatantly rejected the intrusion, biting down on his tongue hard. He ripped away, still pinning Romano down with one hand and wiping blood from his mouth with the other. Antonio leered, looking feral.

'I'm not going to scream for you.' _Not this time, not ever again._ Romano voice teetered on the edge of becoming a plead.

'You honestly think that will change anything... that's cute.' Antonio toyed with the man below him like he was a rag doll, bending the other's knees and positioning them on either side of his waist, not once did the smile on his face waver. His face went blank, however, when tears began to spill down Romano's cheeks.

'Why are you crying?'

'You're a fucking bastard, Antonio. I...I hate you.'

It was then that Romano was confronted with a blinding amount of pain that left him unsure of what to do. It hurt. It hurt very much and he was only aware of how much he wanted it to stop. His hands found things to grab on to, his nails found flesh to dig into-Antonio's wrist. His arm locked around Antonio's neck so he could move with him. So he would not rip. So he would not bleed.

Soon the pain dulled, and Romano was more or less trying not to slip into unconsciousness. He was so tired. When would he be left alone? When would Spain allow him to heal? He couldn't even remember the last time he had been outside. Seen his brother. Gone to a meeting. He hadn't. Because those things were unheard of. It was only him and Antonio. Antonio and Romano- that was everything.

When Antonio was done using him, he planted a kiss on the other's lips, tasting of blood and sweat and greed. Romano did not kiss him back- he only let go and watched the other roll off of him and turn away. Romano remained in the same position he had been discarded in, staring at the dark ceiling in almost-silence, save for the heavy breathing of the one next to him.

He found it impossible to sleep. Romano felt cold and empty... which were not exactly ideal feelings for falling asleep. He felt the tears prickle the back of his eyes again, but this time he didn't stop them. The silent crying turned to subtle sobbing, which, in turn, transformed into all-out hysterical bawling. Waking Antonio was the absolute _worst possible thing_ that he could do right now. Never wake a violent man. _Never._

Romano got up- still crying and hiccupping and gasping with the effort to breathe- walking into the bathroom and locking the door behind him. He grabbed some toilet paper and wiped his eyes with it, looking at himself in the mirror; A skinny man stared back at him. His face was sallow and bleak-no spark was left in his hazel eyes. Faded bruises rested in visible places on his neck and cheeks, below his eyes.

_You're pathetic. _A voice said.

"I know." answered Romano.

_Stand up for yourself for once._

"You think I haven't been trying?"

_Not hard enough. Get him to stop drinking. You need him to stop. He's killing you._

Romano covered his face with his hands, feeling fresh tears threatening to spill over. How long had this been going on? Three months... such a short time, really. Lips shaking and eyes puffy and red, he answered once more to the voice inside his head.

"I know."

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><p><strong>AN;  
><strong>So, I've been in a bad mood lately, which is my excuse for this piece of angst. Should I continue-? Review, please.  
><em>Por favor- "<em>Please." If I remember right. Again, correct me.  
><em>No quiero- "<em>I don't want to" - at least that's what I think it means. Correct me if I'm wrong.


	2. What You Don't Know

**Warning;** Rated M for a reason. Mpreg starting to show if you squint. I know a lot of people don't like mpreg, but sometimes I just need to write out these angsty, unrealistic things to make myself feel better~

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><p>He woke up with his cheek pressed against something cold and slick, he cracked his eyes open and realized he had fallen asleep in the bathtub. He sat up straight and was greeted with numerous pains flooding to his brain from everywhere; the kink in his neck, stiffness in his legs, and the soreness that seemed to be everywhere.<p>

Romano rested his elbows on his knees for a moment, taking deep, soothing breaths. He _would_ have to go back into the bedroom, get dressed, and eat breakfast He _would_ have to speak to Antonio, and he _would _have to make eye-contact- there was no getting around it. He hauled himself out of the tub, and grabbed a clean towel, wrapping it around his waist. Unlocking the door and opening it a bit, he looked out into the bedroom- Antonio wasn't there. He breathed a sigh of relief, walking out of the bathroom and beginning to get dressed.

He walked out into the hallway once he had put the towel away and gotten dressed; he smelled eggs, tortillas, salsa, and the mouth-watering scent of coffee wafting down from the kitchen. When he reached the kitchen he saw the two-person table had been set with two steaming breakfast plates and cups of coffee. Antonio occupied the other end of the table; obviously nursing one hell of a hangover; but otherwise he seemed to be back to normal.

Romano slid into his chair and began to pick at his meal, though he didn't eat any of it. He was starting to doubt that the rumbling in his stomach was because he was hungry. He finally decided that instead of being hungry, he was probably getting sick. The reason he had trouble sorting the difference between hungry and sick was because he wasn't quite sure what was real and what was fake anymore.

'There's a mandatory meeting tonight, Romano.' Spain whispered, beginning to massage his temples, his face was scrunched up in a painful way.

'...How long will it take to drive there?'

'Most of today, maybe a little of tonight. We should get there around ten if we leave in half an hour.'

Were they really having a normal conversation right now? Romano couldn't believe it. He might have choked up a bit.  
><em>Really, <em>they were discussing how long it would take to drive somewhere. It was like last night had never happened at all. Perhaps it was just because Antonio was incapable of remembering.

After a moment or two, with no response from Romano, Antonio spoke up again.

'It's going to be cold at night, where we're going. Arthur couldn't book all of us a decent hotel - you'll need to bring a jacket.'

There would be no alcohol allowed in the hotel- their supervisors would make sure of it. Many of the others were raging alcoholics... maybe this was Romano's chance...

_How dare he act like he gives a damn about whether you're cold or not. He's a fucking idiot, don't you forget that, Romano._ There was the stupid voice again. Romano wanted it to go away. Go away _now_.

Something churned violently in Romano's stomach- he really was going to be sick. He covered his mouth with both hands, standing up abruptly and looking around in panic for a moment. Romano realized that he wasn't going to make it to the bathroom, but he saw the next best thing- the kitchen sink.

He felt a sturdy hand settle on his lower back, and another hand hold his hair away from his face- carefully, treating him like something precious. What he really wanted to do was yell at Antonio. Command that he stop touching him. Request that he leave him the fuck alone while he got his head together.

Eventually the sickening 'splat' sound of vomit subsided, along with Romano's nausea.

'Are... are you feeling all right, Roma? You-'

'You have no _right _to call me that name...and don't you fucking touch me, either!'

Antonio stared at him for a moment, before slowly stepping away, raising his hands up in defeat.  
>Romano wiped his mouth with the back of his hand; trying to avoid the other's concerned, confused gaze.<p>

'I'm sorry... I didn't kn-'

'You should be. You're... you... _tonto_, damn it. Leave me alone. Don't touch me. I'm not in the mood for your stupidity today.' he spat. Romano rinsed his mouth out with water and tried to clean the sink the best he could, turning his back on the one he had yelled at.

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><p>After they had both finished breakfast they got together enough of their belongings to last a week, and loaded it into the back of Antonio's car. Antonio had discovered that Romano didn't actually <em>own <em>a jacket- so he lent him a navy blue hoodie to wear, which he grudgingly put on; he would never admit that the jacket wasn't scratchy or cold. It was perfect, really... but he always said otherwise.

Romano had offered to drive - mostly because he was concerned about Antonio's headache, he was sure to get them both killed - but Antonio had refused, reminding Romano of his "episode" that morning.

He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, sinking down into the passenger's seat. Antonio gave him an apologetic smile, inwardly thinking how cute Romano looked in his jacket - it was too big, really, it could have been a dress. The sleeves were far too long as well.

'You can pick where we eat for lunch, Lovi.'

Romano didn't answer; and Antonio had the horrible gut-wrenching feeling that he had done something wrong... but he didn't know, or remember, what that _something_ was. And he wanted to ask... but some part of him buried deep inside... _didn't want to know._

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><p><strong>AN;  
><strong>Oh and in case you can't tell already - Spain doesn't remember anything. He remembers absolutely nothing and Romano doesn't want to tell him because he's afraid that Spain will do something horrible to either himself or Romano.

Derp. I need to write the first bonus chapter for The Cynic & The Keeper, don't I? Better get on that... tomorrow, maybe.  
>Anyway, I think I'm almost done with this angsty phase, so I'll be back to normal soon. xD<p>

_tonto -_ "stupid".

Ah, and if it isn't too much trouble, **please review! **Oh, and vote on the poll on my lookup, if you have time. c:

Should I continue?


	3. Out of Mind, Out of My Mind

**Warning;** Rated M for a reason, obviously. Horrible dialogue. OOC. Nothing new, really. More of a filler.  
><strong>Song;<strong> Wreck of the Day - Anna Nalick / I'm Your Puppet - Gregory & The Hawk / Malo - Bebe / How To Save A Life - The Fray  
>^I listened to these while writing. <strong>Please review.<strong>

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><p>Romano stared out of the window at all the shops and people they passed, stewing in his own thoughts. After three long hours just driving, Romano slipped his feet out of his shoes and brought his legs up underneath him, tucking them in tight. Once he got into a comfortable position he settled down to take a nap, or at least to rest his eyes for a little bit - he hadn't gotten much good sleep the previous night, after all. He managed to get a few more hours of sleep, only to be woken up by a gentle hand on his upper-thigh, lightly shaking him awake.<p>

"Do you feel like eating anything?"

Romano responded with a quick nod of his head, undoing his seatbelt and putting his shoes back on. They hopped out of the car and surveyed the area - there were lots of restaurants around - it took Romano a minute to remember that they were in France now. Eventually one caught Romano's eye and he led Antonio to it. They were given a table, they gave their orders and the waiter said he would come back and take their drink orders.

He caught Antonio looking at the wine list. He tensed, every hair on his body standing on end. _Shit._

"Y-you're going to drive."

"Oh. Right." Antonio's answer was stiff. If Romano didn't know any better he would say that he was irritated. They both got water.

Romano ate hurridly, practically shoveling the food into his mouth. He couldn't stand it. People at other tables were _looking _at him. Unlike Antonio - they were not oblivious. They saw the bruises, the way he sunk into the corners and tried not to be noticed. They saw. And it scared him. It scared him very much.

"Roma, are you okay?" Antonio questioned as he was paying the bill. Romano still had some food in his mouth.

"M'fine."

"Are you sure?"

"...Yes."

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><p>It was late by the time they reached their hotel room. Even later when they finally went to the meeting - which had been, of course, uneventful chaos filled with defending and attacking reputations and relationships, along with former colonies getting ticked off - Romano included.<p>

It was probably midnight when Romano found himself in Feliciano's hotel room, spilling his heart out along with the events of the past few months. He told his brother everything, he showed him everything too - scars, bruises, hickeys, cuts. _Everything. _When he was done he felt like a great burden had been lifted off of his shoulders... but had he put his burden on Feliciano? He supposed not, because Feliciano was always so carefree - in his world, you solved a problem right away and went on with your life. You were happy and loved and that was that.

They were both sitting cross-legged on his brother's twin-bed - Romano was secretly thankful that Feliciano and Ludwig weren't sharing a bed. His brother's hazel eyes were narrowed in thought.

"Well, for starters, I think you need a hug, _fratello._" he opened up his arms and wrapped them around his older brother. Romano hugged him back, grumbling, but thankful for the reassurance his brother offered him.

"And then... I think you need to talk to him when he gets back... and then you need to find out why you're sick. Stress, maybe?" It was weird seeing Feliciano serious. But Romano was grateful for the concern.

"I don't think it's stress... I don't know what else it could be, though. And... about talking to him - I've tried. I really have, but he won't _listen_ and he doesn't _remember_. I just want things to go back to the way they were."

"Do you remember when Arthur got sick and he ended up being-"

"Don't you even _suggest _that I might be- You're wrong- Just because it happened to some other people once-"

"Twice. You're forgetting Yao-"

"Twice, doesn't mean that it will happen to me."

"But, Romano, I'm not trying to be... uh, irrational... but-" Before Romano could even react, Feliciano's hand darted out and pulled up his shirt, exposing his stomach. "You _do _have a bump." Romano slapped his hand away hard, pulling his shirt back down.

"Maybe it's just a tumor."

Feliciano raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms in a defiant kind of way - and then he began mocking Romano.  
>"<em>'It's just a tumor'.<em> 'It's just a tumor', my ass, _fratello_."

Romano cracked a smile. Something inside of him was breaking, the sound of shattering echoed in his ears. How could everything go downhill this quickly? It wasn't just a tumor - at least that's what Feliciano was saying. He wasn't throwing up because he was stressed and sick. He was sick and stressed _because_ he was throwing up - and he was throwing up because of-

"But... he went out with his friends - the Frog and the Germans. I can't expect him to be sober when he comes back. W-what if he... if he..."

"Ludwig and I can hear everything that goes on in the rooms around us. The walls are paper thin. If something goes wrong then just yell, and we'll hear you."

_"Grazie,_ Feli, you're the best."

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><p><strong>AN;  
><strong>My inspiration for this is kind of drying up a bit. Derp - and I forgot what country the meeting was in, for a moment. I had to climb up on my bed and look at my world map. I didn't look at how long it would take to get from Madrid to France - and I don't really care because they're personifications of countries. I swear to God they probably just poof there instead of drive. c:  
><strong>Review?<strong>


	4. Why Not Watch Me Hurt?

**Warning;** You should know the warning by now, I think. Anyway - Angst, Mpreg, OOC, dark!Spain. Battle of the subconsciouses!  
><strong>Suggested listening;<strong> (Seriously, listen to these songs.) He's Hurting Me - Maria Mena / In Fact - Gregory & the Hawk / Pretend - Secondhand Serenade / My Immortal - Evanescence / Two Faced Twin - Gregory & the Hawk / Blackbirds - Linkin Park

Please leave a review.

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><p><em>You need someone to save you. He'll call you a liar. He'll beat you. Things won't change. Everything will stay the same. He'll lose his temper and yell at you. You'll cry and let him do what he wants. You'll be a coward. Just leave him. Go. It's not his fault you're stupid.<em>

The voices gnawed - no, they tore at his brain with sharpened teeth - on the inside of his skull, fueling the pressure building in his chest, threatening to crack past his ribcage, flesh, and skin so that it could crawl out and be free.

And then he thought of the baby - and the voices would fade away. His fingers would trail detachedly along his stomach, feeling how warm it was - realizing how cold and numb the rest of his body was. He thought of himself as unfeeling, broken... but really, he had to be unbroken and strong. He had to love and forgive Antonio for using him and abusing him and doing all those horrible things.

Because, really, how could Romano hate Antonio? Antonio, who had protected him and held him and _loved him_ like he was the only person in the world. The world...  
>The world, and the people in it, were cruel to people like Antonio. They were selfish and greedy, they had taken things from him and hurt him and corrupted him. Forced his personality to split into two. That other side only reared its ugly head when alcohol was mixed in. And really, the alcohol had always been a bad habit. Always...<p>

To suddenly be confronted - no, bombarded - with so many rambling thoughts at once made Romano feel overwhelmed... and scared. He got up and paced around a little bit, occasionally hovering over the toilet and retching; but not getting anything except the horrible taste of bile in the back of his throat.  
>After that he went through his own bags and pulled out a book, tried to distract himself with words - words he wasn't really absorbing.<p>

The hotel door clicked as it unlocked - Romano slammed the book shut and practically threw it on the ground. The door opened and just like that it was closed again, Antonio swaying back and forth dangerously on his own two feet, mumbling to himself.

"Antonio, w-we need to talk..." _Look at his eyes... look at them. He doesn't understand._

Antonio blinked slowly, staring at Romano. He sat down on the bed, leaning in close to the other's ear and whispering huskily.

"Can't it wait?" Romano's nose scrunched up as it was assaulted by the disgusting smell of whiskey and smoke. He remained unresponsive when he felt the other's tongue on his neck. He scooted away so he could face Antonio.

"No it can't wait."

And so Romano told him.

But the voices were right - Antonio didn't believe him. "You're an attention whore."

"No, I'm not." Romano reached out and grasped the other's hand with his own, pulling it closer and making him feel the slight swell of his stomach underneath his shirt. Antonio's fingers curled, nails grazing along the soft, heated skin and flesh - Romano flinched at the sensation, but let Antonio keep his hand there.

"Get rid of it. I don't want it." Once more, Romano swore he felt his heart break. The pieces went up with his breath when he exhaled and got lodged in his throat, making his next words hoarse and nearly inaudible.

"I didn't ask you what you wanted, did I, Antonio?" So he stole words right out of the other's mouth. Antonio's mouth twisted into a snarl, he ripped his hand away from the other's stomach and out of his grip.

"You _little bitch!_"

_Now's your chance to get him off his fucking throne, Romano. If you wait any longer then things will just go back to the way they were._

Before Antonio got a chance to hit him, Romano hit him first - jolting him back into reality, at least, partially.

"Do you feel better when you hurt me? Is that it, bastard? Well, stop it! I love you, can you hear that? _Te amo, ti amo, I fucking love you_. Now stop it! I don't know why you're upset, all I know is that when you're like this you are _not_ the man I love. And _God damn it,_ I just want him to hold me and tell me it's all going to be all right! I want him to tell me why he gets sad and angry... so that I won't be left in the dark. So that I can try to _help _him... you... Tonio... can you hear me in there?"

Antonio's bright green eyes had gotten even wider - he was absentmindedly rubbing the spot where he had been hit - listening to Romano go off on his rant. A voice was hissing in his ear, _Don't listen to the brat, he's just ungrateful, he doesn't know what he's talking about... put him in his place. Force him to get rid-_

"I can hear you..."

_No! Stupid! Remember what I told you, you need to remember me. Don't forget your past, don't forget me! I'm you! I'm better than you! Without me you're weak and stupid, helpless! Without me you lose! Without me-_

"I'm so sorry, Lovi. I'm so sorry, _cariño_... Oh, please don't cry..."

_That wasn't me._

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><p><strong>AN; **All the songs for 'Suggested listening' are some really beautiful songs by some of my favorite bands and artists - it would mean the world to me if you listened to them. c:  
>Oh and before I get to the actual AN's, if you haven't voted on the poll on my lookup please do so~ If you have time, that is!

I don't think this chapter needs much of an explanation, does it? If you have any questions just bring it up in your review and I will PM you the answer you may be looking for. c:

_Step one: light me on fire_  
><em>Step two: walk clean away<em>  
><em>I won't burn long<em>  
><em>And evidence of your done wrong will be gone<em>  
><em>In seconds I swear<em>  
><em>But if you got time anyway<em>  
><em>Why not watch me hurt?<em>  
><em>And nothing is sweeter than needed revenge<em>  
><em>Oh, that's right<em>  
><em>I did nothing...<em>

_-_In Fact - Gregory & the Hawk


	5. Fire Dwells in All Destruction

**Sorry;** I've been so busy, finishing anime, doodling, and picking out songs. I really don't have any song suggestions for this chapter. This is more a continuation of the last chapter and a filler. I had to do a FrUK request and apparently that killed my Spamano muse. Sorry, folks. Please leave a review, even if you hate it.

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><p>Antonio wrapped his arms around Romano's middle, and leaned in, giving him a quick peck on the lips. He pulled away slightly only to have arms wrap around his neck in a loose hug - tears were glistening in Romano's eyes, and he choked back a sob.<p>

"I'm sorry, please don't cry, Lovi..."

"I'm not fucking crying. Just don't leave me again... I want you to stay you... _please_..."

"I will never leave you, Roma."

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><p>The next few months were Hell for the both of them - Romano kept Antonio on his toes with violent mood-swings which usually ended with smashed dishes, crying, and <em>sometimes<em> a back massage - because usually the back-pain was the reason for Romano acting out in the first place - that and the hormones, which only seemed to amplify his already bitchy behavior.  
>Antonio would make it difficult for Romano to relax by constantly asking him if he needed anything, if he was feeling all right, and that God-awful question 'Was it kicking?'.<p>

_Yes it was fucking kicking, and it was fucking uncomfortable, damn it all!_

He felt like his cheeks were on fire whenever Antonio glanced at him with a far-off look in his emerald eyes. Romano hated all the attention - he wasn't used to attention... especially when it was all focused on _him_. Romano was used to avoiding the spot-light like a plague, but now every day he was being showered with comments and hugs and kisses, and he wanted more - but he _hated_ it.

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><p>The night Romano was due for his last doctor's visit - when he was around his eighth month - he was restless, he was practically burying himself beneath the covers - pulling them off of Antonio, huffing and pouting and overall being a little-<p>

"Fuck, I can't sleep."

Antonio eyes cracked open - granted, he had already been awake, you didn't just sleep through having the blankets ripped off of you -, he propped himself up in the bed, and reached over to touch the Italian man. The back of his hand slid gently across the other's forehead, it was withdrawn as soon as it felt the burning waves rolling off of Romano's skin.

"You're burning up, Lovi."

"Don't touch me... ow!" Romano curled around his middle, hugging the blanket closer to his body and covering his face with his arms. This made Antonio frown, eyebrows bunching together with concern, he tugged on the corner of the blanket gently.

"Roma, I think I should take you to the hospital-"

"I don't want to go to the damn hospital..." _That's where people go to die... I don't want to go there!_

"Well if your fever is this high and you're having cramps then did the thought ever occur to you that there might be something _wrong _with the baby?"

Romano froze, either his mind was playing tricks on him or... Antonio was angry. He huffed, and made it a point not to move.

"Roma, I don't care if you want to or not. If you don't move now I'm picking you up and carrying you to the car..."

Silence.

"I'm going to count to-"

"I'm not a fucking kid! Fine, I'll go." He yelped, making Antonio cringe. He got up, pulled on some clothes, and reluctantly allowed Antonio to drive him to the hospital. Romano griped and complained the whole way there, always saying he was fine and he didn't need to go - but that would only cause Antonio's hand to press against his heated forehead once more.

"I'm just worried about you, Lovi..."

Romano crossed his arms as best he could, tense up and ignore the other's words of concern. He paid no mind to the pleasurable feeling of the other's hand slowly kneading the taught muscles in his neck... but eventually he sighed, giving up as they pulled into the parking lot and parked.

"I don't want to go in there... I'm fat. They'll laugh at me."

"No one is going to laugh at you, Roma."

"How do you know, bastard?"

"I won't let them."

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><p><strong>AN;  
><strong>I have so many things I need to be writing... I just finished Nabari no Ou (a great anime you should all watch if you haven't already). Real life issues suck. This PC sucks. Homophobes suck and odd obsessions with mpreg are annoying. OTL

Anyway I'm in a rather sour mood. ;~;

Meh.

**_Review?_**


	6. I Need A Hand To Hold

**Suggested listening; **White Flag - Dido / Broken - Lifehouse / Forever - Rascall Flatts / Hold - Superchick / What Sarah Said - Death Cab For Cutie  
><strong>Warning;<strong> Language, mpreg, ideologically sensitive material, cussing, etc.

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><p>The hospital was small and in a rather quiet-part of the country, there weren't very many rooms, either. They specialized in the treating and procedures of "country representatives", and their cities, states, territories... even former colonies. 'Why?' some of you may ask. Well, someone has to do it, right? Right.<p>

There had always been countries getting pregnant - because they could, and would, fuck like jack-rabbits - though they were usually _not_ male. The fact that there _was_ one in _their _hospital was enough to send all the nurses and doctors into a frenzy. In fact, the only person who remained calm through Romano and Antonio walking through the front door was the receptionist - a young, dark-skinned woman with a masculine hair-cut and a tattoo on the side of her neck. Everyone else just dropped what they were doing, and ran about, hovering near the two nations and mumbling and whispering to each other.

The receptionist flashed a strained smile, listening to everything they said, while simultaneously typing something on her computer. She told them that it would be best for the doctor to look him over, she also warned them that the doctor might opt to do the c-section early to avoid any difficulties later. Romano had, of course, tried to run out of the hospital then - he didn't want this to happen _now_, he just wanted some pills to make the pain in his head and stomach go away - couldn't they just do that?

Antonio, _of course_, had to stop him and drag him back to the receptionist's desk. She got up and led them to a room, and brought in one of the doctor's - who left a hospital gown on the bed for Romano to change into. He said he would be back in five minutes.

Romano fidgeted for a moment, face going an even deeper shade of red before he grabbed the gown off the bed and ran - or waddled quickly - into the bathroom, slamming the door. Antonio heard the soft 'click' of the lock. He sighed, rolling his shoulders a bit; they had gone stiff. He couldn't call out the fact Romano was still very wary around him - he had a reason after all. Not a drop of alcohol had hit Antonio's tongue since Romano had confronted him - but that wouldn't help that Romano was still untrusting and haunted about being exposed.

He came out from the bathroom, Antonio glimpsed behind him to see clothes strewn untidily along the counter by he sink - he was still incapable of cleaning, heh. Romano kept his eyes glued to the floor, walking over and sitting on the side of the bed.

"How's your fever, Lovi?"

"The same, I guess. Listen; I just want to go home. I don't like hospitals and I-"

The closed door opened abruptly , there was the doctor, accompanied by three nurses (apparently the receptionist was also a nurse) and yet _...two..._more doctors? Romano froze once more, eyes going blank, hands fisting the sheets, he shook his head stubbornly.

"_España,_ you have to go stay in the waiting room, _señor_."

Antonio frowned slightly, abandoning the wall to go stand in front of Romano - who was still apparently trying to disappear - to be anywhere but the damned hospital. He brushed the hair out of Romano's eyes, and kissed him on the forehead - which was still burning with fever.

"You're going to be fine, Roma. Calm down, deep breaths, remember? You won't feel anything - they're going to put you u-"

Arms wrapped around his waist, and Romano nuzzled into his shirt. Antonio felt two patches of his shirt go wet with tears.

"I'm scared." Antonio hugged him back gingerly, frowning once more.

"I love you, Roma."

"'love you too."

* * *

><p>The doctors started arguing quietly, forcing the less experienced nurse - the receptionist - to make sure Antonio was <em>really <em>going to the waiting room. He knew where he was going - it was just down the hallway and off the right - but he wouldn't mind the company; she seemed nice enough, but quiet. He wanted to try and strike up a conversation with her - but it seemed she was giving him the cold shoulder.

"Where are you from, _señorita-?"_

"_Me llamo Abrille,_" she supplied, rather coldly, I might add. She had a peculiar accent that Antonio could not place. Most of the people working in this hospital had lived in Spain their entire lives. Her Spanish was weird. "I was born in Mexico, but I moved to England when I was only thirteen. I came here to take care of my _papá."_

"That's sweet."

She blushed for a moment, rubbing the back of her neck in an embarrassed sort of fashion. Abrille told him that if he got hungry that the cafeteria was open (even though there was no one there), there were also two vending machines way down the hallway and to the left. She went on to explain that perhaps it would be best if Antonio went back home and got some sleep - because this was going to take a while and-

_"Abrille!_ Stop getting distracted! _Apúrate!_" A voice crowed from down the hallway. Abrille gave him an apologetic smile before practically sprinting down the hallway, leaving Antonio alone.

* * *

><p>He sat there for the longest time, feeling out of place. He stared at his shoes while the television just mumbled quietly in the corner. Who watched the television while they were waiting for news, anyway?<p>

Hunger ripped at his stomach, but he didn't want to move - if anything, he just wanted to sleep. He did doze off a few times, form slumped in his chair, but he would wake up a few minutes later to the sound of people running around to retrieve equipment.

Antonio was in there long enough to start despising the room. It was too clean, it wasn't a place you wanted to be alone in. The smell of bleach and metal was disgusting, and it was giving him a headache. He wanted to go home and wake up to the smell of morning breath and the leftover scent of whatever they had eaten for dinner the night before.

_He just wanted..._

* * *

><p>"<em>España?<em>" Antonio snapped to attention, blinking sleepily up at the face of one of the nurses.

"We have some bad news..."

_Shit! _He buried his face in his hands, not responding. The nurse bit her lip, scowling.

"The baby's heart is going to give out; we don't know when, but soon. We have Romano on antibiotics - he's a little tired, but he should be fine as long as he doesn't go under again."

"Can I see him now?"

"Of course."

* * *

><p>The odd machines in the room were dead, pushed off against the walls; they didn't have a job to do anymore. A heart monitor beeped slowly next to the bed where Romano was lying motionless; arms on either side of him with two IVs poking out of his right arm. He was looking off to the side - it was obvious that he didn't want to be looked at.<p>

Antonio dragged a chair over to the left bedside, sitting and clasping his hands together, he bit his lip as he tried to find something appropriate to say. The tension was so thick not even a knife could cut through it.

"Lovi, it's al-"

Romano choked on air, tensing up, "No, it's not alright. I feel like shit and they won't let me see the baby - you _know _that means that she's not going to live - and I just want to go home and I never want to go to a fucking hospital again..." the heart monitor sped up a bit, before returning its normal, slow-paced rate.

The Italian man turned to face Antonio, eyes red from tears. The sight of someone crying is never - and will never - be pretty or attractive. The image of someone crying is something that either provokes numbness, awkwardness, or sorrow itself.

Crying can be contagious.

Antonio reached out to stroke Romano's hand, as he tried to ignore the tears trying to spill over his cheeks.

"Roma, it's alright. I'll take care of you-"

"Just shut up, bastard. I don't want to talk to you right now."

"Why are you mad at me?"

"I'm not _mad _at you, stupid... I just, I just feel awful."

Understatement of the year; Romano felt awful.

"Please don't."

"This is all my fucking fault; it was probably the stress... I was stressing the whole time, and _you_... you..."

"So it was my fault, Lovi. Please don't blame yourself. It was me. Me. Not you."

Romano struggled to stay awake - and, really, that freaked the shit out of Antonio, because the heart monitor was haunting him, squirming into his mind;

_Let's... see... what... happens... when... we... skip... a ... a... beat ..._

"B-but... I just wanted us to be happy..."

"I know, Lovi, I know. I'm so sorry." _We can be happy._

_May... be... he... just... needs... a... good... nights... sleep...?_

"Don't say you're sorry, bastard. You had no idea what you were doing..."

"But I did it."

"You did."

_Peo... ple... come... and... peo... ple... go ..._

Antonio tightened his grip on Romano's hand, feeling oddly at-ease when those paled fingers wrapped around his own and squeezed in a comforting manner.

"I-if, you want, bastard, we could try a-"

"Not unless you want to."

"... I don't want to."

_Red... as... blood... or... white... as... snow..._

A nurse walked into the room, her eyes were glazed over as if she were in shock. Romano didn't want to know. He didn't want to.

"Romano, I suggest you and _España _both get some sleep. It's early in the morning and neither of you have gotten good sleep. If you have any problems, just let me know."

_All... the... peo... ple... that... you... know..._

"I don't want any more disappointments, Antonio."

"You won't get any, Roma. I'll protect you, this time. It's alright."

"What do I have to do?"

_They... will... all... leave ... you..._

"Just stay with me, Lovi... please..."

"I will. I'm just sleepy, damn it."

_But... you... won't... die... alone... be... cause... he's... there... for... you... to... hold..._

Antonio woke up with his cheek pressed flat on sheets, still connected to Romano with their fingers interlaced. He looked up to see Romano's eyes moving rapidly behind his eyelids, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

The Spanish man smiled.

_He... will... protect... you... from... the... night...ev...en... if... his... heart... goes... cold..._

There was the heart monitor, slowly spelling out that everything was going to be okay. He sighed, and pushed away the dark thoughts plaguing his tired mind. That part of him was insignificant - he didn't matter anymore.

Romano's eyes fluttered open - he seemed surprised that he had even woken up.

_"Buenos días, cariño~"_

The corners of Romano's mouth twitched upward as he felt his weak heart swell with affection.

_"Ti amo,_ you fucking bastard."

* * *

><p><strong>AN;** -thros hands up in the air- DONE.  
>This was a really difficult chapter to write - I've been in a hospital before (not as a patient) I've seen people being wheeled in with their face smashed in and metal in their hands from motorcycle accidents - long story short - HOSPITALS SCARE THE FUCK OUT OF ME AND I DON'T LIKE WRITING ABOUT THEM. ICUs scare me, people sulking in hospitals scare me, the smell of hospitals make me want to vomit. :c<br>I was originally going to have Romano die, but that would have been heartless - and I'm not a complete heartless bitch.

Abrille is one of my OCs - in every story I've written her into; she's been a nurse. She's really only used for fantasy/dark myth roleplay but, meh, she fit~

The little poem (yes it was a poem) the heart monitor was beating out is _mine_. No stealing. :c

Uhm, so yeah. Thank you for reading/listening to the suggested songs! I hope you all have a wonderful afternoon/morning/evening~

_Tell me I can make it through this day_  
><em>I don't even have the words to pray<em>  
><em>You have been the only one who never left me<em>  
><em>Help me find the way through all my fears<em>  
><em>Help me see the light through all my tears <em>  
><em>Help me see that I am not alone in this...<em>

Hold - Superchick.

**REVIEW~?**


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